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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686923">Time Stealing Regime</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarveLoathesome/pseuds/CarveLoathesome'>CarveLoathesome</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Interpol (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Piss, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Some Cuteness, but mostly just porn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:47:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,642</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarveLoathesome/pseuds/CarveLoathesome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Years of pent-up sexual tension between them was finally coming to a close in this cramped hotel room in France, in a haze of television light."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Paul Banks/Daniel Kessler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Time Stealing Regime</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so this is set during antics but ig u can imagine it any time before 2010 (cuz carlos is in it). there is piss. incase u missed the tag. enjoy</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You coming, or what?”</p><p>Paul revelled in the soft fabric of his coat, nuzzling his chill-bitten nose into the black scarf coiled around his neck. His pale eyes glanced up at Carlos, who stood impatiently, inching further out the door with every second his question was left hanging in the air. Like always, Carlos was peevish, his eyes rolling back into his skull and his hand coming to rest on the hip of his skin-tight jeans. Paul hummed softly into the material around his neck and shook his head lightly, crashing down onto the small single bed at the wall and curling up into a ball, eyes closed contently. Carlos shook his head apathetically at the boy, “Suit yourself.” He murmured, striding off lankily down the hallway after Sam, his clunky footsteps fading out of earshot. The door closed slowly in the absence of Carlos’ weight but not without noise; forcing Paul out of his mental oasis of blankets and peace with the abrasive sound. He whined childishly and buried his head in his pillow, face first.</p><p>“You okay, Paul?” Daniel asked him softly. He was in the middle of the room; on the double bed they had booked, accidentally might I add. They had done Rock, Paper Scissors when they first arrived to see who would be sleeping together, to which Daniel and Carlos lost. It was a good thing they did however, as Paul was certain that Daniel’s the only one who can truly tolerate him.</p><p>Paul turned his head lazily to face him and cracked a tired eye open. He hummed indistinctly, not wanting to use his last dregs of energy on working his voice box. The white noise of the TV soothed Paul into a drowsy stupor, his eyes struggling to stay opened; but before he could object, Daniel was across the room and cradling him affectionately, sitting him up and helping him take off his coat and scarf. Paul rested his head on his shoulder and muttered a weak thank you, burying his blushed nose into Daniel’s shirt.</p><p>“Go to sleep, okay?” Daniel instructed. Sure, his body was wrecked from the journey, but Paul was too stubborn to fall victim to Sleep and its awful Time-Stealing-Regime.</p><p>“Nononono..” he objected, and shook himself awake, his mop of dirty blonde hair falling in front of his eyes, “I’m fine.” Daniel rolled his eyes, “Typical..” and settled back down on the large white double bed, engrossing himself in the blue light of the TV screen. The bed springs creaked a few moments later and Daniel directed his vision to Paul, who crawled onto the bed next to him, settling close, “What’re you watching?” He asked, his voice thick and scratchy.</p><p>“A wedding-cake-making show. It’s oddly entertaining.” He mused, the light from the screen spilling out onto their bed, illuminating them in a bright blue haze. Paul looked down at his hands, and they lit up like he was an alien on an acid trip. Bored and restive, he scanned the sheets until he found the remote and snatched it up, scrolling through the channels before Daniel could stop him.</p><p>“Hey! I was watching that!” Daniel gawked.</p><p>“Can it.” Paul snapped playfully, “I’m finding us something actually good to watch.” and with that, he rested his head on Daniels legs and kept his eyes fixated on the screen, ignoring Daniels inevitably resentful expression. He always got way too invested in shitty TV. Daniel gave up on his feign of sourness after a while and tangled a hand in Pauls hair, stroking it gently. Daniel loved messing with Pauls hair, it was the softest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of playing with, and although Daniel was oblivious, it always made Paul melt like rubber under a flamethrower for him. It was an oddly arousing unspoken secret they indulged in. They had never discussed it, and they sure as hell wouldn’t do it around their bandmates.</p><p>“Now, this is what I’m talking about.” Paul dropped the remote out of his hand and away from anywhere Daniel could reach on the bed.</p><p>“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Porn, Paul? Really?” he asked sardonically, yet not entirely surprised.</p><p>Paul hushed him and sprawled himself out further, bringing his hands to rest on Daniels sturdy legs and facing fully towards the TV. Daniel didn’t have to see his face to know the expression on it, though. A devious, shit-eating little smirk.</p><p>On the screen was a young busty brunette, slicked in oil and pushing herself down onto a girthy cock, letting out the most elaborate porn star moans Daniels ever heard. French TV huh? He couldn’t keep his cheeks from flushing as he watched her get railed with his best friend resting on his legs, his hand still tangled up in his hair at Pauls silent protest when he tried to stop.  He pushed himself back into his hand and let out a soft pleasurable sigh; an innocent act, but it <em>felt</em> so very erotic, Daniel’s blood rushing violently through his veins and settling in his groin in response. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to urge his growing hard-on away through the sheer force of his own willpower.</p><p>But to no avail, and he can’t help but grow hyperaware of every small occurrence in his quiet panic; he can hear Pauls soft breaths getting shallower and he can feel his warmth on his legs and <em>fuck</em> he wishes that he could suck him off like the porn star on the screen is doing right now.</p><p>But something takes him out of his mind, out of the corner of his eye he notices. For a second he thinks he’s imagining it, like his own twisted little fantasy has materialised in front of him in the form of a hallucination – but no. He realises that Pauls arm really is moving. <em>He couldn’t be… </em></p><p>“Daniel?” Paul piped up; his voice twinged with cautious curiosity and discernibly writhe with lust.</p><p>Daniel couldn’t help his voice cracking as he forced out a great, “Yeah?”</p><p>“I’m all… I’m all hard..” Paul muttered like a guilty puppy, and Daniel’s mouth fell open, his jaw hanging like an accordion. His arm started moving faster and Daniel felt himself choking on nothing and trying to catch his breath all at once.</p><p>
  <em>This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. </em>
</p><p>But it definitely is happening and Paul just let out the hottest whine Daniel’s ever heard and he’s fucking leaking with it already. Before he even really has time to process it, Pauls straddling him, grinding his hips down and leaning down to lock their lips. Years of pent-up sexual tension between them was finally coming to a close in this cramped hotel room in France, in a haze of television light.</p><p>They’d done stuff before this. Just once. But It was all kind of hazy.</p><p>It was a gloomy Sunday in downtown New York city, and the sun had hidden on the opposite side of the world many hours ago. The party was filthy; cocaine splattered credit cards discarded on the floor, the air thick, and tight, and reeking of alcohol and unspecified body fluids, and a dense glaze of dinginess and immorality plagued the room.</p><p>The Dark Room. Like a trip to the underworld.</p><p>Paul had already crushed any trace of sanctitude left within him when Daniel accosted him, equally intoxicated, vision spinning drunken loops. His eyes latched onto his bandmate, pupils like two huge black pools, and next thing you know they’re pressed against a wall, trying to reach back and stroke each other’s uvulas with their tongues.</p><p>It was messy, and there was nothing romantic about it; just pure primal hunger. They had both lost their inhibitions, clawing at each other’s junk like rabid animals and spilling uninhibited sounds down the other’s throat. They’d lost any sight of their surroundings; only <em>need, need</em> and more <em>need, </em>before leaking shame into their pants in tandem. It was sticky and uncomfortable the next morning, after waking up face down on an unfamiliar carpet full of stains and party residue.</p><p>The following weeks were embarrassing to say the least; with Daniel turning 50 shades of red every time him and Paul locked eyes for longer than a second, but Sam and Carlos knew better than to go enquiring about their odd behaviour.</p><p>But now the kiss has something deeper hidden inside; it’s more than just raw lust this time. Daniels the first one to slip his tongue in and they move them together, and it’s a wet slobbery mess, but not uncomfortable, and it feels better than even their most vivid wet dreams. His hands travel up Pauls shirt and he gasps as they sting his back with the cold.</p><p>“We can’t do this.” Paul gasps into the kiss, but his hand curling up in Daniel’s locks and tugging invalidated his statement entirely. He gives in, pulling his head back and kissing a trail along his jaw, tracing it with his tongue before venturing down and sucking flowering bruises on the soft skin of his neck. Daniel whines aimlessly into the ether and presses his hips up, exploring the air for some much-needed friction, and desperate to get out of his pants before the rub of the fabric makes him cum prematurely. Paul continues to manhandle him to reach all the sensitive spots of his neck and collarbones, using his free hand to undo the buttons of his shirt and caress the skin that reveals itself. He makes sure to position himself so that Daniel’s helpless thrusting and grinding wouldn’t receive any reprieve – he always took great pride in teasing.</p><p>“Please…” Daniel’s practically melting in his hands by the time his shirts taken off, “Paul… please…” he begs.</p><p>Paul tries to keep his teasing escapade up but truthfully; he was just as flustered. It drained the last of his willpower to not rub up against the pleading boy beneath him, with each desperate little word going straight to his stomach and dizzying him. He caved, pressing his ass into the throbbing erection and marvelling at the beautiful sound he got in response. But to Pauls ignorance, it wasn’t a moan of pleasure; but one of an ache independent of his sexual desperation. Daniel hadn’t realised how bad he needed to pee up until this point, and he gripped Pauls hips, digging in his thumbs and urging him to stop.</p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“Need to pee…” He mewled, slightly embarrassed, trying to move Paul off of his hips. But he wouldn’t budge. His eyes flashed with a conniving deviance and he pressed himself down harder on the squirming boy.</p><p>“Paul! What are you-“</p><p>Paul lifted a precise finger to his lips, hushing him, “You’ll thank me later.”</p><p>And thank him he did, for Daniel has never felt such an intense sensation down there as Paul grinds his ass back into his aching bladder, leaving him a writhing, moaning mess. He leans down, dragging his lips along the length of his ear, whispering lowly about how good he feels pressing up into his ass and how badly he wants to touch him, leaving Daniel begging incoherently into his shoulder.</p><p>Paul finally relents and drags Daniel onto his feet with him, sinking down onto his knees in seconds and fondling with the button of his trousers, yanking the zip down and hooking his fingers into his waistband to pull them down. He was over all the teasing now. He <em>needed</em> him.</p><p>He pulls them off over his feet and throws them to the side, the buttons smacking off the ground with a sharp <em>pang</em>. He runs his hands up his legs slowly, chaffing the coarse hair covering them, until he reaches the bottom of his grey underwear. Daniel shudders, and panic bubbles up in his stomach as he feels how full his bladder is. He doesn’t know how long he can hold it, especially with his dick in Pauls mouth. His brain ticks over. He doesn’t know how far Paul wants to take this.</p><p>Would he get mad if he pissed himself?</p><p>Should he ask?</p><p>But now Pauls tongue’s sliding over his cock through his underwear and Daniel can’t form a coherent thought anymore. They’re saturating with his spit already, leaking through the fabric and Daniel can’t help his knees wobbling at the cold wet sensation on his shaft.</p><p>In one swift move Paul pulls down the remaining barrier and Daniel gasps as the coolness of the room hits his cock, and he looks down to it fully exposed. Daniels hands automatically find their way to his junk and he covers it in embarrassment, his cheeks blushing fleetingly - he didn’t exactly bare the largest cock in the world. But Paul grips his wrists and pulls his hands away, his eyes sparkling as his cock is revealed once again, the tip flushed and moistened. He tries to compliment, or mollify Daniel’s anxiety, but he finds that his tongue is tied up in his mouth and all he can let out is a soothing hum. Their eyes meet, glistening with hunger and he can feel his hands shaking with anticipation.</p><p>Paul swipes his hair from in front of his eyes, the bright blue orbs glowing in the murky luminance of the room. The air feels dense and greasy, the heat from each of their bodies absorbing into the other and Daniel feels like he’s burning up with every contactless second that passes.</p><p>Paul reaches his hand up to the underside of his cock, close to the base, running two fingers down its central cord, causing it to bounce attentively. He smirks, pleased with his dexterity and ability to tantalise. He flicks softly at his head and a giggle almost escapes his throat when Daniel gasps softly and his dick hardens to full mast, almost visibly throbbing, veins protruding in tracks down his shaft.</p><p>Finally, Paul wraps his fingers around him, gripping softly and forcing a deep thrum of blood to Daniel’s head, and he feels his vision clouds over at the catharsis. He authorises a few slow pumps, then thumbs his head, playing with the sticky fluids that had formed. He ducks his head down, giving a small reserved lick across his slit and his eyes fall closed as he savours the salty fluid on his tongue, losing pressure on Daniel’s cock but quickly re-establishing himself, stroking now from base to tip and back again. The friction is raw and dry, but full of ecstasy, and Daniel feels the tension swelling in the pit his stomach like a balloon being pumped. Pauls hands move delicately, but militantly precise as he lathers his lips up and prepares to go down.</p><p>His hands are trembling slightly as he cups Daniels balls and lowers his lips down onto his cock; he’s sucked dick before – its New York fucking City, who hasn’t? – but it was always meaningless, or for some self-or-band-beneficial reason. Now the stakes were much higher.</p><p>Paul set out to impress, tucking his hair behind his ears and ensuring eye contact to rouse him into a deeper sense of intimacy and filth. His tongue glazed him up and down, the friction beautifully smooth, and his knees ached harshly on the wooden floor, but he didn’t mind much.</p><p>He opens up his throat and forces his head down fully, only stopping when his lips hit the base of his cock and his nose is buried deep in a nest of thick brown curls. Daniels mouth falls open, his hand finding its way into Pauls hair for the second time tonight and he grips so hard his knuckles are turning off-white.</p><p>He gags once, causing him to salivate uncontrollably, (and Daniels eyes to roll back in his head so far that he’s seeing his own thoughts in real time) and he screws his eyes closed and concentrates on relaxing his throat once again. He pulls off breathlessly, assuaging the sudden lack of friction with the motion of his hand, face smitten with a delicious deviance so sickly-sweet that Daniel suspects ulterior motives for an evanescent moment.</p><p>That inkling is only materialised as Pauls lip catches between his teeth and he asks, low and sensual, “Piss on my face, Danny? Please?”</p><p>Daniel’s brain turns staticky for a second as he processes the question, but his eyes light up with frisson and he nods vigorously. He wasn’t quite thinking about the aftermath, just the <em>Now</em>, and how desperately hot the image of Paul soaked in his piss is playing over in his mind. <em>He needed it to be real. </em></p><p>Paul moves closer, wrapping an arm around his leg, eyes fluttering innocently even though he was anything but. Daniel takes his own cock into his hand and Paul closes his eyes, his lungs tightening and breath wavering. The liquid slowly edges out of his urethra and the first salty droplets hit Pauls lips. He swipes his tongue over them, savouring it on his tongue, warm and saline. It tastes better than he anticipated. He opens his mouth, yearning for more like a human urinal. And more he got – the stream splashing out onto his face and quickly filling up his mouth. He swallows all that he can, attempting not to choke, but it overflows and rolls over his chin in golden waves, soaking into his shirt. He redirects the stream over his dirty fair hair, and he’s slowly covering every inch of his visible skin with the aromatic liquid.</p><p>Daniel can’t help but moan in ecstasy at the release, the ache in his bladder slowly subsiding. He looks down, and he swears he could orgasm on the spot at the mere sight of him, but he refrains. The tension in his balls was overwhelming, no longer pleasurable, his stomach tight and in knots. He grips Pauls jaw in his hand, forcing him to open his eyes and look up at him. They were coated over, absent with giddy lust and satisfaction. “I <em>need</em> you to get me off.” He sterned, and Paul wasted no time in taking him into his mouth again, moving a hand along with the movement of his mouth. His skin was becoming sticky, his hair heavy with saturation, once again masking his eyes. His movements were fast and sloppy, but Daniel quickly felt his orgasm pooling in the pit of his stomach, his breath picking up and skin fever hot.</p><p>He finally cums, hot and sticky down his throat with a harmony of whimpers from the both of them surrounding the air. Daniels knees almost caved with the intensity of it, his head falling back.</p><p>“Tastes so good..” Paul breathes out, tonguing his slit desperately to get the last drops of the fluid. Daniels cock twitches with the overstimulation and he pulls away, hands moving back to rest on the bed for support. Paul finally relieves his knees of the hard wooden floor and pushes Daniel down onto the bed, pressing soft, gentle kisses to his lips as to not overwhelm him in the comedown.</p><p>Paul meets his eyes and Daniel knew what he wanted before he said it, feeling him timidly rubbing up against his thigh.</p><p> “I really need to..” He looks down, mildly self-conscious and needy.</p><p>Daniel murmurs a soft acknowledgement and Paul giggles as his hands start to caress his sticky body (he’d always been pretty ticklish), slipping slowly up his shirt and removing it over his head, throwing it off to the side with a damp, dull <em>schlop</em>. He takes his nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and sucking gently, satisfied only when he hears low purrs conjuring up in Pauls throat. He can vaguely taste the residue of piss on his tastebuds, and glances around at the mess they’d made. That would be a lot of work for later, but at least he could be sure that Sam and Carlos probably wouldn’t return until the following morning anyways. No rush.</p><p>Daniel manoeuvres so that Pauls lying flat on his back and he rests close up against his side, wrapping one of his legs around Pauls and nuzzling his shoulder. This was one of first times he appreciated being smaller than him. He moves a hand slowly down his body, feeling that his calloused guitar fingers aren’t deserving of the soft milky skin beneath them. Frankly, he feels a small ounce of guilt within him, only having enough energy for a hand job after Paul had just pleasantly wrecked all of his 5 senses. But he could make up for it another time.</p><p>He reaches a hand down and hears Paul gasp, feels him buck his hips up. He lays a tender kiss on his neck and pulls him out of his pants, giving him a few soft squeezes before putting the forces of friction to work. He opts for something slow and sensual, pouring the affection he feels out through his hand and hoping Paul subconsciously receives it.</p><p>And somehow, he does, and his eyes drift shut, glistening lips parted open ever so slightly.</p><p>It takes an almost embarrassingly short time for him to finish, spilling out warmly over Daniel’s hand with a musical string of profanities and sounds. Daniel’s hand comes to rest on his chest and he snuggles into him further, listening to his breathing returning back to normal.</p><p>The air in the room felt much colder and thinner in the comedown and Paul pushed open the linen covers for them so they could bury themselves underneath. Away from the world. Paul didn’t mind falling victim to sleep and it’s awful Time-Stealing Regime as long as he was with Daniel.</p><p>In fact, with Daniel, every moment spent in his airspace felt like one that could never ever be stolen from his bank of memories. Daniel stole time from the clock itself. </p>
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